It feels so familiar

I feel like I am on the edge. Even writing this, I feel like a super self-indulgent, angsty Daria cartoon– the type of person that blames their whole life on things that happen to them. Part of me feels like I am depressed and like I have been depressed for more days than I haven’t. The other part feels like I am being weak and I just need to knock it off. I have a wonderful life and I might be missing it.

Some days as I wake up, I open my eyes and immediately shut them again. I feel like I am going to burst into tears and I have no idea why. I am tired and disoriented and wondering how I could have started off the day so badly when I have not even changed position yet.
If I manage to get myself up, which I almost always do, it feels like there is a grey film around the perimeters of my vision - Like I am watching a dream in a movie. In and of itself it feels like a reason to cry.

My movements feel slow and my shoulders feel heavy – actually like someone is pushing down on my shoulders and expecting me to walk forward at the same pace.
I think about the day ahead and I don’t want to do it. It’s not that I don’t want to exist; I just want to get back in bed…for absolutely no reason at all. What hurts the most is that there is nothing wrong.

From an objective perspective I have everything I want. I am lucky. I should be happy.
Instead I feel like I have to tell myself to do each next step. It’s nearly impossible to see any bright side. So I fake it. I push the grey to the back of my mind and just try to wrap myself in the doing. Goals help a lot but when I don’t have a goal in site I can barely move. Sometimes I bury myself in MJC’s arms and cry and beg him to give me some kind of a goal.
I could not keep a job if I lay in bed each day I felt grey or blue or red or whatever color it is. I would not have friends. My family would be worried. I would isolate myself further. I would feel worse. There is a chance that if I fake it long enough I will lose that ugly feeling. That has happened before. I put more pressure on myself to snap out of it and I feel worse about myself that I can’t but at least I feel angry instead of sad and helpless.
I am tired no matter how much I sleep.

Maybe this is how everyone feels and I am just a little weaker. Maybe if I try a little harder I won’t feel this way. I hate sentences that start with maybe.
The difficulty comes in the fact that I don’t know what else helps besides stubborn determination and occasional self-indulgence.

I don’t believe talking to a very expensive therapist or taking a pill will help. It hasn’t before. If nothing external helps than it has got to be in my hands. I wonder if it is just a choice.